Caprice Gets a New Client

I sat, looking at the computer, trying to flip back and forth between the website for the brothel I was looking at and my facebook tab, trying to compare pictures to decide if I thought this was really the same girl.

I think it is. Mind, uh, blown, I guess I'd say?

I stood, and walked around my living room, trying to decide what to do with this information. Part of me can't even believe I'm considering this, but, on the other hand, here I am, looking at a girl on a brothel's website.

I cast my mind back, remembering... A few years ago the government had passed a referendum allowing for prostitution in select circumstances. It was all safe now, all the girls are STD tested weekly, and the guys are required to show a negative test as well. The brothels are licensed and, while the girls are not required to have a license, the brothel is required to give them some training in safe sex techniques to help avoid issues. Condoms are optional, depending on the girl you are working with. All-in-all, it actually seemed like a pretty good set up.

Back when the referendum passed I was still with my now-ex girlfriend. Didn't really pay much attention to it but I do vaguely remember there being some opposition to what was being proposed. Turned out not to matter in the end, I suppose. But times change -- clearly, I think bitterly, remembering finding out my ex had cheated on me. When the referendum went through I didn't really say much about it one way or the other but I never really did see myself taking advantage of it.

Oh, how times change.

My ex cheated on me about six months ago, and it took me a week or two to decide after I found out that I wasn't gonna be able to move on with that knowledge, and had appropriately informed her. I've had a few flings since then, but it's so hit or miss, trying to pick up women at the bar or using the various dating apps that are out there. I guess I kinda just wanted to have some fun with a woman I wouldn't remember in a few weeks, which was led me to remembering about the new laws that had been passed.

I sat back down at the computer and began working through the paperwork. I had actually been tested for STDs after my last fling, I figured it was probably a good idea at the time anyway since I had been with three or four women since my ex and I split. Negative, across the board, and I submitted the paperwork via the little dropbox they gave me.

The website asked me which of the girls I would be interested in, or if I had no preference. I had to look back at the list again because Caprice was using some sort of stage name, and I couldn't remember what it was.

"Rose," I muttered to myself, finding the page again and selecting the appropriate box on the application. I filled out the rest of it; it was actually all pretty simple. Just basic contact and biographical information, and I sped through it, making sure it submitted successfully.

Finishing the application, I sat back in my chair and let this whole thing wash over me again. I think I had already mentioned, I had tried the bar scene and all of that. And it worked, sometimes, but it was such a crap shoot, too. I've had nights where I've spent a bunch of money on a date and drinks and all of that and nothing ended up happening. Not their fault, sometimes the chemistry just isn't there and I'm not the type to force something to happen where there isn't a mutual interest.

Ath the end of it, though, I decided it would be a better use of my time and money just to get directly down to business. Maybe at some point a little later on I might try again, especially if I wanted to get a new actual girlfriend. But I wasn't there, yet, I still haven't quite processed the whole end of my relationship, quite yet.

"But a guy has needs," I thought to myself, smiling a little. I began thinking back to Caprice in high school. I knew back then she was originally from California (Orange County, actually!), and I also remember she was probably one of the hottest women in my school. We were friends but not particularly close, mostly because our last names were almost sequential so we ended up sitting right behind each other, her in front with me behind her.

We were both kinda loners, albeit for slightly different reasons. Her dad was military and they had moved around a lot as she grew up, and as a result she tended to only have a few close friends. I didn't make that particular list but because of our proximity in class, we ended up studying together quite a bit.

I was always the academic, acing most of my classes while sleeping through the actual lessons themselves. But when Caprice needed help understanding a concept she would inevitably wake me up and pester me until she understood it. I always tried to be friendly with her, and I do think she saw me as a friend at least. But I was in foster care, in a suburban school district and originally from the inner city. Most of the kids in my school struck me as pretentious and snobby, and I shunned most of them because they were about as shallow as a kiddie pool, with few redeeming qualities (in my eyes).

But I never really put Caprice in that group. I thought she was hot, of course, and yeah that made me want to get to know her but even though she was from Cali, she had never given me the kind of pretentious air that most of the other kids had.

I was just smirking about having blown off my high school graduation when I was interrupted from my reverie -- my phone was ringing. Surprised, I looked at the caller id and it came back as "The Bunny Brothel," the same company I had just applied to. I answered the call.

"Hello, I'm looking to speak with Mr. King, if he's available."

"You got him. I wasn't expecting you guys to reach back out so fast," I say with a nervous laugh.

The lady on the end of the phone laughed with me, "It's okay, we want all of our clients to have a great experience with us and that starts with getting you on the books as soon as possible."

"I appreciate that," I said, before letting her continue with her spiel. She ran through all my paperwork to make sure everything was in order, before pausing.

"I see you've selected Rose as the girl you'd like to meet with," she said, not betraying anything in her voice.

"Yes," I said, "Is that a problem?" I ask, curious.

"No, it's just that I see you've never booked with us before," she answered. "Do you mind if I ask why you decided to request Rose? She's also pretty new with us, as well."

My mind raced. I wasn't sure if I should admit knowing Caprice from school, so I kept my answer vague. "I was looking through the pictures you have of your workers on the website, she was the one I found most attractive," I say, keeping my voice casual.

"I see," said the lady from the brothel. "Well, Rose has a spot open tomorrow night at 9pm. Does that work for you?"

I nodded before remembering the lady on the phone couldn't see me. "Yes, that works fine."

"Okay. Our address is listed on the website you applied through, please show up about a half hour early so we can get some final signatures and get you paid up before your meeting begins. Have a great night!" She finished enthusiastically.

"Thanks," I said into the phone, disconnecting the call and staring at my computer screen for a minute. This was really going to happen, I thought to myself.

It was already late, so I went ahead and turned in for the night, drifting off to sleep wondering about how the next day would turn out.

---

The next day I actually had off from work, so I spent the day just making sure stuff was done around the house and, once the evening hit, I took a long shower, being careful to make sure I trimmed myself up and was clean. I wasn't actually planning to make Caprice have sex with me tonight, but depending on how things go... One can never be too careful.

I had already decided that I was going to let Caprice have the option, she could turn me down, or not, and I would still pay the rates they had listed. It was worth it just to have a chance to catch up with her, since we had drifted our own directions since high school.

I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as I finished getting dressed. I had always been a little heavy, but working on cars these last few years had kinda shaped me into a little more muscle than fat. I still had a bit of a belly but overall I think I looked okay. In high school I had been overweight and a bit of a slacker, and I had graduated weighing almost 300 lbs. I was down now to about 230 and, like I said, a lot of muscle. Most of the fat I had left on my body was primarily in my stomach, and I shrugged at myself in the mirror.

I was wearing simple clothes, a pair of jeans and a shirt with a hoodie on top of it. It was February in the northern hemisphere so it was a little cold, but I was always a 68-degree-person, so cooler weather didn't bother me as much as it did some. Giving myself one last look in the mirror, making sure my hair was tidy, I left the bathroom and grabbed my keys, locking up behind me as I left.

I made the short drive to the address that was listed on the website. It looked like an old hotel that the company had converted. That made sense, I suppose, given the business model they had.

I parked outside the main entrance and went inside to the desk. The lobby was empty aside from the receptionist, and she waved me forward.

"Hey," I said, a little nervous. "I'm here to see Rose tonight," I said, looking around at the lobby. It was plain and utilitarian, but there was a bulletin board on one side. From where I was standing I could see most of it was taken up by a big poster with "Bunny Brothel Rules," written over top of it.

"Of course!" she said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a file. I could see my name written on one of the edges of the file. "So I need your ID and your credit card," she said quickly. I produced both, letting them sit on the table until she reached up and grabbed them. She made some notes on the file, copied my ID and gave me a packet of papers clipped onto a clipboard.

"Read through everything," she said, pushing the clipboard at me. "The first one you need to sign is our rules, agreeing to them and acknowledging that violating these rules can get you banned from the facility for an indeterminate period of time, depending on the violation." I nodded at this, since it did make sense.

"The second is a release of liability. Whatever happens with you and Rose is between you and Rose, we're just the matchmakers. If she demeans your manhood and kicks you in the nuts, then that's your problem." I nodded again, grabbing the clipboard and reading down through the rules. They were pretty simple, honestly, reiterating that consent is important, and laying out how penalties would be adjudicated.

I glanced down through the rules. Condom use was optional, although encouraged. Ladies were allowed to require it. I remembered seeing a few had been marked "Protection required" on the website when I had been looking through. Interestingly, Caprice had not made that requirement. Which suited me, I really didn't wanna have to mess around with them, either. Other than that it was a lot of legalese about what happens between consenting adults. None of the rules were problematic for me, otherwise.

I quickly signed both and returned the documents to the receptionist. She filed them away and gave me a "be patient" gesture. I nodded again as she grabbed the office phone and dialed an extension. No answer.

"She's not answering her room phone, let me check in with the floor manager," she said as she dialed another extension.

She got an answer this time. "Hey, I was wondering if you could check on Rose in Unit 12, her 9pm is here and all ready to come up," she said. She was quiet for a minute before covering the mouthpiece and looking at me. "He's checking on her now," she said, before returning her attention to the handset. A moment passed, but she must've gotten confirmation because she hung up the phone with a smile and handed me a key. "Unit 12 is the third floor, it'll be the second door on the right. Rose just got in the shower, which explains why she wasn't answering. You can go inside, just leave the key in the door lock, our floor manager will come collect it later," she said.

"Thanks," I said, my nervousness increasing now as I headed to the elevator. I jingled the key on its little chain, trying to master my breathing. It had now been almost 15 years since high school, I wondered whether Caprice would even remember me. I shrugged it off as I entered the elevator. In any case, she would soon enough. The elevator doors closed and went up, opening on the third floor. I stepped outside and turned to the right, finding the second door and slipping the key into the lock, I stepped inside, leaving the key in the lock as instructed.

The inside of the room was definitely not your standard hotel accommodation. I looked around. The carpet had been replaced with some really plush, almost velvety-looking material. There was a desk in one corner hung from the wall, with a small computer on top. The phone sat on the same desk. I continued looking around. There was no TV, and there was a giant king bed in the other corner.

I sat on the bed and realized it was not a standard-hotel mattress, either. It had a good amount of bounce, which would be perfect for a sexual encounter. Glancing under the bed I could tell it had been reinforced, which made sense, given the abuse these beds probably encountered.

I looked up as I saw a stream of light coming from the bathroom door. "Give me a minute, I'll be right out!" Caprice -- no, Rose -- called out.

"All good," I called back, making no effort to hide my voice. It had been long enough she probably didn't remember what my voice sounded like. I pulled my phone out and browsed facebook idly, not hearing the door open as Caprice stepped out.

"Matt?!" She called out. This got my attention and I looked up, my jaw dropping as I saw Caprice for the first time. She was wearing a blue cocktail dress that hugged all of her features. I could see the lines of her hips and her boobs making the dress swell.

"Hi, Caprice," I said slowly, a guilty smile on my face as I stood and walked over to where she was still rooted to the floor. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember me or not," I said slowly.

She nodded, clearly letting her high school memories flow behind her eyes. "Yeah, I do," she said slowly, her hands running down her dress and smoothing it out again. My eyes followed her hands, seeing the dress cut off about mid-thigh, her olive skin showing perfectly in the light of the room. My eyes went down to the strappy heels she was wearing.

"You look more beautiful then I remember," I said, focusing my eyes on her face again before taking her hand, leading her over to the bed. I grabbed the chair from the desk and sat down in front of her.

"How have you been?" I asked, seeing some of the shock fade from her face.

"Good!" she said, chirping a little. "I actually am a nurse now, if you can believe that," she said, clearly nervous now. "What are you doing here, though?" she asked suddenly.

"Well, truth be told, I was on the company's website looking for someone to have some fun with," I said, watching her eyes for a reaction. She held herself well, though, and I continued. "But I saw your picture and couldn't resist passing it up," I said, gauging her. I could tell she was still nervous.

I continued, "I want to be clear, Caprice, I don't expect anything to happen here unless you want it to. For me, this whole thing has been worth it just to have an opportunity to talk and catch up with you."

She nodded slowly, relaxing a little bit. 'Damn,' I thought to myself, 'i might have to look elsewhere'. Her reaction to me giving her an out was pretty telling.

She ran her eyes over me, taking in the changes from my high school days. "It really is good to see you," she said quietly.

"You don't look super-enthused," I said, watching her still.

"You're right," she said, finally letting her guard down. She gestured to the room around us... "I got invited into this from a girl at my day-job. She said she had made quite a bit more money doing this then she had as a nurse. I haven't quite seen that yet, and to be honest this is only like the fourth or fifth time I've done this.

I nodded. "That's what the lady on the phone said, that you were still pretty new. If it makes you feel any better, this is actually my first time doing this," I said with a laugh.

She giggled a little too. "It does, actually. I'll be honest, the first couple experiences were not very good for me. Maybe I was just nervous or, I don't know, but they seemed to have fun, at least. I never got a bad review, anyway." She looked nervously at the door, then back at me. "At least not yet," she added.

"No worries there," I said, waving it off. "As far as the company is concerned, you were A+ and I couldn't have hoped for a better experience," I said.

"Did you really mean what you said?" she asked. "About how nothing needs to happen tonight?"

I nodded, but decided that honesty was the best policy here. "I won't lie to you Caprice, I had a massive crush on you in high school, and when i saw your picture on the website there was a part of me that wondered if I should just play it like a normal customer. But we were friends once," I said, looking up at her as she nodded. "So while, yes, I would be happy if something did happen between us, as long as we have a chance to catch up and talk then I'm totally satisfied."

She studied me for a minute, taking this in. "I always thought you did," she said, giggling a little bit. "Do you remember junior year history class? You sat behind me."

I nodded, remembering the classes she mentioned. "I slept through most of the class," I said with a laugh, "other than when you were poking me and asking questions." She giggled again. "I also remember some of the outfits you wore back then. There were several days I remembered walking back to my desk after being up standing around in class, I would glance down at you at your desk and get a good look at everything, from your chest all the way down to the button on your jeans. Or at least your tits hanging in your bra," I said, blushing at the memory.

She laughed out loud at that. "Yeah, after I realized you had a crush on me in school I kinda played you a little bit. It was funny to see some of your reactions. But it was just for me to see," she said quickly, seeing me getting a little heated. "I never told anyone else about it. But I could tell you liked what you saw, and, honestly, I enjoyed the attention. Even if you never did anything about it!" She looked at me, fake anger all over her face.

"What do you mean! I didn't think we were close like that," I said defensively.

"Do you remember the time-warp project we did? We were the nineties," she asked. I blushed at this, since it was actually permanently etched in my mind. The project was basically to explain the decade through some kind of video montage, and part of what we had done to explain the decade was through the outfits we had worn. I remember wearing these super baggy JNCO jeans, and she had been dressed in these low-rise jeans with her thong hanging out the entire time.

She had asked me to come upstairs and help her select an outfit. She had thrown a bunch of clothes on her bed that she said might work. I remember very clearly seeing that she was a size 6 in jeans with a 34c bra.

"I do remember," I said, seeing her reaction to my blush. "34c and size 6," I said, "we spent like an hour going through your clothes to find the right outfit. When we finally decided on one you just started stripping in front of me. I ended up turning around and walking out into the hallway, I wasn't sure how to handle it," I said with a nervous laugh.